


Ul'dahn Sunset

by Feeeshy



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Lalafell Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26004703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feeeshy/pseuds/Feeeshy
Summary: Emet-Selch thinks back to happier times. The Warrior of Light mourns the loss of a friend, and thinks of a way to always keep him close.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch & Warrior of Light
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	1. Reminiscing

**Author's Note:**

> **5.3 spoilers!**

“She’s so...small.” Emet-Selch mumbled to himself, watching from the shadows as the Warrior of Light ran about through Eulmore. Pink hair done up in twintails that bounced with her quick steps, she couldn’t have been much more than knee-height to him. A Lalafell, he believed they called themselves on the Source.

Azem had never been the tallest in any room by any measure, he remembered. And when standing between the towering Hythlodaeus on one side and himself on the other, she looked positively tiny. How easily one or the other of them could pick her up and carry her, like she weighed nothing. They often even used such a tactic when she stubbornly refused a break from work or study. And though she would put up a paltry act of defiance while in their arms, the small smile she wore and smug glint in her eye told another story. She always did take a strange pride in her diminutive stature.

But now, this...this was going too far. He could carry her away under one arm, if he wanted. Haul her about like a sack of popotoes. She could fit—nay,  _ lounge _ in the palm of an Amaurotine as if on a bed.

He winced as she collided into a distracted Eulmoran gentleman. Hopping back to her feet, she gave him a quick tongue lashing about watching where he was going. Then she was off again, leaving the man dumbfounded at the fiery Lalafell disappearing down the hall. 

Fondness turned up a corner of Emet-Selch’s lips. Even at three-fulms tall, Azem was ever the same.


	2. Commemorating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **5.3 spoilers!**

With Moonfire Faire fireworks lighting up the night sky, Popoki walked along the busy Sapphire Avenue Exchange. Worn sandstone bricks under her feet, the smell of cooking foods from venders, mumblings of transactions—all the comforting familiarity of home. And how she had missed it. Here, amid bustling Ul’dahn business, loneliness did not find her. 

That the Scions returned to the Source hale and whole—if she still held belief in the Twelve, she’d sing their praises for such a blessing. And with G’raha awakened—truly, fate rarely favored her this much.

Turning down a quieter back road, she reached into her pocket to grip the weight inside. Despite all her good fortune with the health of her friends, something cold still lingered in her heart. 

She weaved her way through alleys, the sounds of the busy marketplace fading as she entered the halls of the Gold Court. Her small footsteps echoed off the walls, her only company. Tucked away deep within Ul’dah, she came to her destination—the Goldsmith’s guild.

“Popoki!” The receptionist greeted her as she stepped through the doors. “It’s been awhile. Come for another lesson from the guildmaster?”

The pink-haired Lalafell shook her head, twintails swaying slightly with the motion.

“I’ve a request, actually." She reached back into her pocket, and pulled forth a crystal—brilliant bright orange, with hints of yellow strewn within. Beautiful, like an Ul’dahn sunset. "I wish to have this made into a necklace.”

“That’s lovely.” The receptionist leaned over her desk to have a better look at it. “Sera will be more than happy to do that for you, but it must be something special to come all the way here. The jewelers along the Sapphire Exchange should be more than sufficient, and a good bit cheaper.”

Popoki shook her head again. 

“You know as much as I that they are just as likely to be swindlers as jewelers.” She thumbed at the circular design carved into the center. “No, this is...quite important to me. A gift, you understand. From a friend. I would trust it only in Sera’s capable hands.”

As if sensing the weight beyond her words, the receptionist’s face softened.

“I suppose you will want to hand deliver that to the guildmaster?” she asked. Popoki nodded. “Just a moment then, I’ll check and see if she’s free.” Walking from behind the counter, the receptionist disappeared into the lively and densely packed guildhall.

Popoki leaned back against the wall to wait, holding the crystal tight in her hands.

“I never got to thank you for saving me,” she whispered to the crystal, “and then I go and carelessly drop your gift on my way to the tower.” She huffed at herself. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

Perhaps they could have been friends, had things been different. Perhaps they were always destined to fight. As she traced her finger along a smooth edge, great tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She blinked them away. She understood not whence this came, this deep mourning. But it gnawed at her and found her when the company of others could not drown it out.

The cold crystal briefly pulsed with warmth in her hands, but she knew it was only wishful thinking playing tricks.


End file.
